


Pod Bless America

by Deisderium



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: About Podfic, Captain America Steve Rogers/Modern Bucky Barnes, Clicky Strap, Fanfic as Story Element, M/M, Meet-Awkward, Meet-Cute, Meta as All Get Out, Podficcer Steve Rogers, Queering the Narrative, Writer Bucky Barnes, about fanfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-09
Updated: 2019-07-28
Packaged: 2020-01-07 13:03:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18411200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deisderium/pseuds/Deisderium
Summary: Bucky can't believe his favorite podficcer recorded his newest fanfic AU of the showCommandos. He's even more surprised when the customer who busts him listening to fic while he's working in the office supply store turns out to be that podficcer.*The guy—maybe bi_shield?—took his phone, looked down at the screen, and smiled. "Yeah, that one's mine," he said with no evidence of embarrassment. "It was a good one." He handed the phone back to Bucky."I wrote it," Bucky croaked.





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ETA Fox of My Fanfic Addiction has made a podcast of Pod Bless America!!! The circle of meta has gained another loop! You can listen to it [here.](https://anchor.fm/foxyb/episodes/Pod-Bless-America-e4p5hf)

 

Bucky wasn't really supposed to listen to his headphones while he was working, but Saturdays were slow days at the office supply store, and his boss wasn't here today; it was just him. He only had one earbud in as he worked, and the bell over the door was loud—he would hear if anyone came in.

He just hadn't been able to wait, is all. His favorite podficcer in the _Commandos_ fandom had recorded his— _his_!—most recent plot-what-plot smut based off the show. The guy's voice was so deep and soothing, and he did the best voices for the characters, better than some of the actors, in Bucky's opinion. He had been thrilled beyond words when he got the notification that morning for the podfic. That anyone would have spent that much time recording his fic was amazing enough, but it was bi_shield, the man whose voice had had him crying, laughing, and inappropriately turned on in public for the last several years, since he'd gotten into the _Commandos_ fandom. He'd listen again after work, when he could give it his full attention, but right now, he just had to hear his words in the voice of his favorite podficcer. He had to, for reasons, and the reasons were to gratify his creative ego, to be honest.

He restocked shelves full of highlighter sets, listening as his own familiar words gained new resonance when said by someone else. It felt like bi_shield's voice was bringing in whole other layers of meaning, and he was almost embarrassed by how much he enjoyed listening to his own story.

He had moved on to restocking post-it notes when the podfic reached the penultimate sex scene. He smiled, a little proud; he had thought the scene was hot when he wrote it, and then in edits, he'd questioned it, and by the time he'd posted it, he was completely unable to tell, but listening to it in that resonant voice—yeah, it was pretty hot.

The real Captain America had been found and defrosted a year after the show started, and what a media shitstorm that had been. There had been some back and forth over whether or not to cancel the show, which had started a year before SHIELD had found the captain, but when Cap hadn't said anything one way or another, the show had kept going. The ratings had soared. There had been a different shitstorm a couple months later when Cap had come out as bi, and that had been the impetus for Bucky to start writing, honestly.

The show was so...straight. It only allowed the possibility of Peggy Carter, not any of the Commandos, not any of the resistance...Bucky had been irritated about how shortsighted it was, to be honest. Bucky kept writing Cap as the queer he had said on national television that he was, because the show kept pretending he wasn't at all, and it made Bucky angry.

This most recent fic was a threesome between Cap and Luc and Genevieve, the French Resistance fighters from season 2. It was a deeply self-indulgent story, straight from his id to his readers', and it had been pretty well received. He was by no stretch of the imagination a big name in the fandom, but this fic in particular had gotten a bigger number of kudos and comments and bookmarks than his others, and then bi_shield had decided to podfic it, and he wasn't going to lie, it felt like he had leveled up in his hobby, in a way, that someone—someone he admired—had enjoyed his work enough to want to spend actual time on it, to make something from what he had made.

Like hell was he going to be able to wait until after work to listen.

The bell rang, and a customer came in.

Bucky hit pause on his phone. "Welcome to A-One Office Supplies, can I help you?"

"Just looking," the man said. That deep voice was enough to make Bucky take a second look, and, well, damn. Had he met him anywhere else, he'd take third and fourth looks as well, but it would be creepy to ogle a customer. The man was tall, taller than Bucky, extremely built, with shoulders broad enough to bridge canyons, barely contained by a brown leather jacket. He was blond, had blue eyes, and his facial features made the word _chiseled_ float across Bucky's consciousness. Except for his lips; they were disconcertingly soft-looking. Plush—that was the word he wanted. And the man looked like he was someone Bucky should recognize, somehow. Bucky would have remembered meeting him, he was certain of it. Maybe he was an actor or something.

"Let me know if I can help," he said, after a beat too long. Fuck, he was being a creeper.

"Sure thing," the man said, and his voice seemed familiar too. Huh.

He hit play on his phone as he continued to stock shelves, one earbud in, one dangling loose as he listened in case the customer needed him.

The fic was getting close to the climax (hur) and Bucky was going to have to hit pause again. Hearing his own words read in that voice was Doing Things for him. One of the many reasons bi_shield was his favorite reader was that he sounded more like Captain Rogers than the actor that played him did.

"Excuse me," his customer said from right behind him.

"Aaaaargh!" Bucky said, very suavely, and jumped into the air while scrabbling for the pause button on his phone. His heart was thumping a staccato beat against his ribcage. "Sorry," he said as he turned.

The man was smiling at him. "No, I should apologize," he said. "I wasn't trying to sneak up on you..." He was even more ridiculous up close, all handsome and symmetrical, except for his nose, which looked like it had been broken at least once. His eyelashes were very long.

"No, I really shouldn't be listening to headphones at work." Bucky shrugged. "What can I help you find?"

The man's eyes dropped to the earbuds. Was he blushing? Oh god, if he had overheard any of the very explicit fic, Bucky was going to have to move to a different city. Maybe on a different coast. Possibly on another continent.

"I'm actually looking for a new microphone for my computer," the man said slowly. "I record a lot of audio."

Now _Bucky_ was blushing, and he didn't even know why. "Sure, I can show you what we've got."

He led the man over to the correct aisle, still feeling deeply awkward. It wasn't this guy's fault that Bucky was being pervy at work or that Bucky had not _stopped perving at work_ when a customer came in; no, that was all on him. He sighed, trying to keep it mostly internal.

"We don't have as big a selection as some other places might have," Bucky warned him, "but we have a pretty good range of quality. What's your budget?"

The man bit his lip and brought his hand to the back of his neck. His teeth were very white. "Um, why don't you just show me the options? Price isn't really a consideration."

Bucky got his eyebrows under control (only after they shot up into his hairline, unfortunately) but maybe the guy didn't know how much the microphones could run.

"This one is a good lower-end model," Bucky said, pointing to a box. "Depending on what you do with it, this can cover a lot of ground."

"That's actually the one I have," the man said. "I'm looking to upgrade."

"All right, this one is a great next step and actually just a great mic all around." Bucky picked up the Yeti Pro. "What kind of stuff do you record?"

The man picked up the box and looked at it like the specs were the most interesting thing he'd ever seen. "Actually, I record podfic."

Okay, yeah, this guy had for sure heard at least a little of what Bucky was listening to, and Bucky's face was stinging, so he was definitely bright red, and he would welcome death's sweet embrace any second now. _Why_ was the grim reaper waiting for an engraved invitation rather than showing up when Bucky needed him?

"This will probably work for you then," said the part of Bucky's brain that wasn't devoted to his own complete and total mortification. "This one is quite a level up." He handed the box with the mic that cost over a grand, and the man looked at the price and made a muffled sound.

"The Yeti looks good, thanks," the man said, and then he looked directly at Bucky. His eyes were so blue. "I, uh, I'm not one hundred percent sure what you're listening to, but I think it might be one of mine."

Bucky's face went from stinging to actually cold as the blood fled his skin. Did chameleons and octopuses...octopi?...have this issue when they changed color, or was the change in temperature as blood ebbed and flowed purely a result of human dumbassery?

He fumbled his phone out of his pocket and unlocked it so the title of the fic was visible and held it out wordlessly.

The guy—maybe bi_shield?—took his phone, looked down at the screen, and smiled. "Yeah, that one's mine," he said with no evidence of embarrassment. "It was a good one." He handed the phone back to Bucky.

"I wrote it," Bucky croaked. His hands were sweaty, and his phone slipped. They both reached out to catch it, and his awkward-ass fingers wrapped around the guy's as he caught the phone. "Sorry." Bucky jammed his phone into his pocket.

"You're roadlesstraveled?" Bi_shield didn't sound embarrassed or having an out-of-body experience the way Bucky was. He sounded downright _delighted_. "I love your work! Honestly, you just keep getting better. You're very eloquent about emotions without it seeming over the top."

Bucky made sort of a hissing noise, because it was one thing to receive kind and thoughtful comments in text form, and it was another thing to have someone record a story you'd written (and that second one was a feeling he was still adjusting to having,) but it was _another_ thing entirely to have a large handsome man with a very deep voice stand in front of you and tell you earnestly that he really appreciated your stories. "Thanks," Bucky said, in the way of someone who was eloquent without being over the top.

"I'm Steve," the large handsome man said, tucking the box with the microphone under his left elbow so he could extend his right hand.

"Bucky," Bucky said. Steve's hand was big and warm and callused, like he worked with his hands, and Bucky couldn't help thinking about all the many times he'd listened to this man's voice narrating all manner of sex scenes, and how was he going to be able to even finish listening to his own fic now that he knew that bi_shield—Steve—looked like _this_?

"I'm going to get the mic," Steve said.

"Oh, uh, of course," Bucky said, and then his brain came back to him, at least a little. "I can ring you up, but I also just wanted to tell you how much I appreciate your work in the fandom. You're such a great narrator—you bring so much extra dimension to the fic—and I can't tell you how excited I was when you recorded this one." Which he had already said, more or less, by way of AO3 comment, but he needed to say it now also.

Steve smiled. "Thanks. That means a lot."

Bucky rang up the microphone on autopilot, caught in the pull of two opposing emotions, wanting both to end this interaction so that he could die of chagrin, and wanting to draw it out longer because he admired Steve's work so much. Also, he was very big and muscular and Bucky wouldn’t mind being crushed to death by his bulk. Ugh.

Steve swiped his card and signed the screen, and Bucky waited for the receipt to print. He put it in the bag along with the mic, then handed it all over to Steve. Steve smiled at him, then fished the receipt out, pulled a pen out of his pocket and wrote a number on it, then handed it back to Bucky.

"If you want to get together sometime and talk about the show or fic or whatever, I'd sure enjoy that," Steve said. "Thanks for your help with the mic."

"Thanks. I'd like that too," Bucky said, which was an understatement of truly epic proportions.

Steve gave Bucky a little wave and walked out, the bell on the door jangling as it closed behind him.

Bucky picked up the receipt, first noting Steve's phone number (with a little smiley face doodled next to it; what was he trying to do to Bucky's heart?) and only then noting the full name: STEVEN G ROGERS, the receipt read.

STEVEN

_G_

**ROGERS**

Holy shit. Bucky pulled his phone back out of his pocket and exited out of the music player. Watching his hand move as though someone else were moving it, he tapped on his browser and googled _captain america_. He didn't really need the confirmation, though; he knew the man's name, middle initial and all. He knew his birthday. He knew a lot of facts about him, because even though all of his knowledge was filtered through the show, the show was based on a real person. Bucky tried to focus on the character Steve Rogers rather than the actual person Steve Rogers, and maybe it was that or the fact that the man was notoriously private that had kept him from recognizing him immediately. But the picture on his phone was definitely the man who had just given him his phone number and—

Bucky was having a lot of feelings right now. 

~o~

Bucky managed to wait until twenty minutes before closing to text the number Steve had given him.

**Bucky: hi, this is bucky from the electronics store**

**Bucky: I only realized after you left that you are THE steven g rogers**

**Bucky: how did you get into podficcing**

**Bucky: and in this particular fandom**

And then he made himself put the phone down instead of continuing to feelingsbarf via text. He was a little surprised when it buzzed just a second later

**Steve AO3: I'd love to get together and talk to you about that.**

**Steve AO3: Are you done with work?**

**Bucky: in about 15 min**

**Steve AO3: Do you want to get coffee? I can come meet you at the store.**

Bucky swallowed. His pulse was hammering in every pulse point all of a sudden, and he thought he might want to throw up a little bit, but he wanted to see Steve more.

**Bucky: sounds great**

**Steve AO3: Great! I'll be there in about 20.**

**Bucky: see you then**

He resolutely closed his phone and pretended he wasn't nervous as he went through the closing routine on autopilot. He tried to listen to the rest of the podfic so he could intelligently discuss it with Steve, but that turned out to be a terrible idea. Now that he knew what he looked like, and that he was Actual Captain America, he couldn't listen to him talk about Steve Rogers sucking dick while getting his ass eaten, in the words that Bucky himself had written, no less. He wanted to listen, he did, but he was torn between total mortification that Captain Fucking America had read his story about Captain America Fucking, and being turned on by his voice, now able to picture him reading the words into a microphone, doing all the little groans and gasps that he was so damn good at articulating.

He turned off the podfic and finished closing out in silence. 

~o~

 

It came as no surprise that Steven G Rogers was punctual. He showed up exactly when he'd said he would on an honest-to-god motorcycle, which did nothing for the personal crisis that Bucky was having. He was just happy that he'd had a change of shirts in his backpack, since he didn't like getting home with his dorky A-One polo shirt and nametag on. Said polo shirt was now stashed in his backpack, and he was wearing an old NASA t-shirt under his sweatshirt, which was by far not the worst of the t-shirts he could have packed—had it been any of the Avengers ones, probably, but the Cap ones absolutely, he might have had to just zip his hoodie closed over his bare chest.

Bucky keyed in the code and let the door swing shut behind him, listening for the magnetic lock. Then he told himself not to be a complete asshole and turned around.

Steve was still wearing the brown leather jacket from earlier, and he was smiling at Bucky in a way that ought to be, if not actually illegal, then at least strongly discouraged.

"Hey," Bucky said, with an accompanying dorky wave that he immediately regretted.

"Hey." Steve's smile deepened, creasing the skin around his eyes. "We can grab coffee around here if you know a place, or—" He nodded at the motorcycle. "—we can go somewhere else and I can drop you home when we're done."

The fact of the matter was that Bucky knew many coffee places within a few blocks of the office supply store, but given the choice to walk several blocks to guaranteed good coffee or to ride on the back of Steve Rogers's motorcycle to potentially dubious coffee—sorry, actual caffeine thirst, pants thirst would win every time.

"Take me someplace you know," Bucky said.

Steve tossed him a helmet, and Bucky yanked the ponytail holder out of his hair so he could jam it on over his head. As an afterthought, he fastened the clicky strap on his backpack. Steve had already gotten his own helmet on, and as Bucky watched, he straddled the motorcycle. His legs were very long. Really, so much longer than most people's.

"Hop on," Steve said, patting the seat behind him, and that. That was a place that Bucky was going to sit, because he had asked for it, like an idiot. Bucky settled his hands on Steve's waist, as politely and unobtrusively as he could, and swung his leg over until he was seated right behind Steve, with no idea what to do with his hands. He lifted them up so they kind of hovered for a second, and then Steve grabbed them and pulled them around his torso so Bucky could hold onto him. Steve was solid in front of him where his chest was pressed against Steve's back. His jacket wasn't zipped and Bucky's hands were resting on the warmth of his belly. He started the engine and Bucky felt muscles flex beneath his fingers. His brain made a sound like a teakettle coming to a boil, and then they were pulling away into traffic, and all he could do was hold on and enjoy the ride.

Steve took them to a neighborhood that wasn't too far from Bucky's apartment, actually. Bucky hadn't been to this coffee shop in particular, but it looked nice when they came in, dimly-lit and full of bookshelves. They went up to the counter to order and before too long they were seated in a booth in the back of the shop, looking at each other across the table while Steve shrugged out of his jacket and Bucky tried not to ogle the breadth of his shoulders or the way his pecs shifted under his very tight shirt as he moved. His fingers still tingled with the memory of touching him, but that wasn't why they were here, and Bucky needed to get a hold of himself.

"So you're a writer," Steve said, once they had both gotten settled and had sips of their coffee.

Bucky willed himself not to blush since Steve knew exactly what kind of plotless filth he was capable of, but he was pretty sure he wasn't successful. "How'd you get into podficcing?" he asked instead of responding to—well, it hadn't been a question anyway.

Steve laughed and leaned back, one arm over the booth, fingers of the other hand curled loosely around his coffee mug. "I wasn't sure I wanted to watch the show. I mean, they started filming well before they knew about me, but to me that time they were filming about was still so fresh in my mind. Those were my friends, you know? I wasn't sure I could handle seeing a fictionalized version of those people. But then Tony—Tony Stark," he added, as if Bucky wouldn't know, "thought it would be funny to show me a fanart he stumbled across that someone did of the Commandos genderbent, me included, of course, only it wasn't me, and it wasn't my friends, it was the actors from the show." He took a sip of his coffee.

"There is fic and art out there about you," Bucky said hesitantly.

"I know," Steve said. "There is about most celebrities. Tony loves it, but I need the extra layer of distance of the show to really be able to look at any that has Captain America in it. Anyway, once I saw that art, I went looking and found this whole world out there of people taking the show's narrative and putting in what the show leaves out, and the thought of that really appealed to me."

Bucky leaned forward. "Okay, so you found out about fic—how'd you get from there to recording it?"  

Steve shifted a little. "Well, Tony thought I'd be horrified, but actually, I was pretty damn delighted. I don't know if you remember when I came out—"

"Yeah," Bucky said, because boy, did he remember that. Captain America coming out as bisexual had been huge in the news cycle for quite a while, and Bucky, just finding his toes in fandom, had been over the moon to have his headcanon confirmed—not in the show, even now, but in real life, which, come on, that was better. And since he himself was chaotic bi, it had been even more personally satisfying.

"The show keeps making Cap straight." Steve shrugged. "And here are all these people, queering the narrative. Making it right, to be honest. Who cares if it's not actually anyone I ever was with? The show's not about me, it's about Cap, but—it's still more true the way you're out there writing it than it is the way they film it." He met Bucky's gaze, and Bucky thought maybe his heart was cracking open a little.

"So you decided to take part by recording the stories people wrote." Bucky leaned forward and wrapped both his hands around his coffee. "But you don't write them yourself? Or draw art?"

"It's still too weird for me," Steve said. "I can't draw these versions of people I knew, and I was never that much of a writer. But, look, people are taking this very heteronormative thing that a studio made of my life, and they're making it queer again, and it makes me happy to participate in that in some small way." He shot Bucky a smile. "What brought you into it?"

That smile. Fuck. Bucky was devastated by that smile. He didn't have as thought-out an answer as Steve did, but he wanted to be as honest with Steve as Steve had been with him.

"I started watching the show the first season," he said slowly. Steve watched him, very blue eyes intent on his face. "And I liked it. But I didn't get into fandom until after you came out, because once I knew that you were bi too, the relationship on the show wasn't..." He chewed on his lower lip. There was a lot of speculation about Steve's real-life relationships, and he had never really confirmed or denied what he and Peggy Carter were to each other, besides to say that he loved her. "...it didn't feel like it covered enough ground. Not because of whatever happened or didn't in your life, but because the show was about your life and you had said..." He trailed off. His face was bright red, he was certain. He had typed god knew how many twitter threads of meta talking about this, but he didn't think he'd ever actually talked, out loud, about fic as much as he had today, and certainly not about why he wrote it. He took another breath. "It almost doesn't matter if it was you or not, because the whole show is so straight, and there were queer folks there too, and those stories don't get told." He shrugged.

"So you're filling in the gaps," Steve said. 

"Yeah," he said. "I mean, I'd hate for someone to tell my story and misrepresent my sexuality, or leave out the fact that there are queer people in general. I'm glad you were able to set the record straight." He listened to what he'd just said. "Or not straight. Whatever."

Steve was looking at him far too fondly for someone he had just met. "Thanks for writing it. When I'm busy, I'm pretty busy, but there's a lot of downtime between missions, and...maybe it's not the hobby people would expect me to have, but honestly, it makes me happy."

"Then I'm really glad," Bucky said. "It makes me happy, too." He tightened his fingers around his coffee cup. "I didn't think I was a creative person, but I got so irritated with the show, and it turns out some people like what I do, so..."

"Never underestimate spite as a motivator," Steve said seriously. "And I think your stories are great. I'm actually recording one of your older ones, or I was before my mic busted."

"Seriously?" Bucky kept thinking he had hit his quota for blushing today, but he kept proving himself wrong.

"Yeah." Steve shrugged. "If you want, you can come see my set up, maybe help me with the new mic."

Which was how Bucky found himself at a brownstone in Brooklyn that was much, much nicer than his efficiency, helping Steve Rogers, Actual Captain America, set up his microphone. Although he wasn't doing much actual helping; Steve had a good handle on his audio set-up, clearly. 

And then he was listening to Steve talk into the microphone, and Steve really must have been mid-scene when the old mic busted, because he picked up _in media res_ of the first sex scene Bucky had ever written, in the coffeeshop AU where Steve and Gabe Jones had to share a bed (!), and, well, it suddenly was in fact too much to listen to that deep voice read the scene he'd written. It wasn't just listening and _watching_ as Steve Rogers said "hard cock bumping into his hip;" it was watching him grin as he narrated the awkward but sweet emotion blooming between the two characters.

His eyes crinkled as he focused on the printed pages in front of him. Bucky wasn't close enough to see the notes, but he could tell that the story was annotated with, he assumed, notes about what to emphasize. A lock of blond hair had flopped forward onto his forehead, and he absent-mindedly pushed it out of the way, only to have it fall forward again a few seconds later. His lips shaped the words and Bucky couldn't help wondering what they would feel like pressed against his, because the uncomfortable but thrilling swell of _liking_ that Steve was describing right now in Bucky's own words?

Bucky was feeling it. 

Steve was beautiful, but more than that, he was a guy who fought against large injustices, and then lent his voice in a number of ways to people who needed a little more voice. The kind of guy who'd invite a stranger to his home because they shared an interest. The kind of guy who didn't care what people thought about what he did. The kind of guy, honestly, that Bucky could see himself falling for all too quickly.

Bucky couldn't quite square Captain America with this guy—he had too much cognitive dissonance with the characters and the show—but he wanted to. He listened to Steve talk his way through the end of this scene, and then Steve looked up and met his eyes and smiled. He pressed something on the laptop and leaned back.

"That's why I wanted to record this one," he said without preamble. "It's not just a hot scene, it's really emotional as well, and that's one of the things I appreciate about your writing."

"Th-thanks," Bucky managed to stammer out, trying to come up with something more eloquent, when Steve's phone rang.

Steve's demeanor shifted immediately as he answered; he wasn't Steve anymore but Captain Rogers. It was kind of weird to see, and Bucky felt slightly bad that the first place his mind went was that it would be a great detail in a fic. "Rogers. Uh huh. Understood." He glanced at Bucky. "I'll be there in thirty minutes." He hung up without saying goodbye. His expression softened as he looked at Bucky.

"I'm sorry to cut this short," he said. "But I can still give you a ride home."

"Okay," Bucky said. "Maybe we could do it again sometime?"

Steve smiled. "I'd really like that."

Ten exhilarating minutes later, Steve was dropping Bucky off in front of his shitty apartment building. Bucky returned the helmet to him, and Steve took his off to say goodbye. His hair was rumpled and sticking up in all directions and Bucky wished he could run his fingers through it.

"Look," Steve said, and he sounded a little uncertain. "I don't—if I've got this wrong, tell me. But. We talked a lot about how straightwashed the past can be, but there's something to be said for queering the narrative in the present day, too..."

Bucky looked at him for a second as Steve turned bright red. Finally, someone blushing that wasn’t him. "Are you asking me out to thumb your nose at heteronormativity?"

"No." Steve said, still blushing furiously. "I'm asking you out because I like you."

"In that case..." Bucky leaned forward, smiling himself, and pressed a kiss to the corner of Steve's mouth. His lips were soft and tasted a little like coffee, and Bucky could feel the curve of his smile against his mouth. "Call me when you get back, all right?"

Steve gave him a little salute, then put his helmet on and sped away.

~o~

_six months later..._

"Are you sure this is okay?"

Steve's familiar blue eyes had a very unfamiliar look of uncertainty. Bucky crossed to the other side of the desk to kiss it away.

"Relax. It's just talking. Like recording a fic. You'll be fine."

"That's not helping, Bucky." Steve's big hands wrapped around him and pulled him closer. "I can't think about recording sex scenes when we're telling your parents you're moving in with me."

Bucky snorted and glanced at the laptop, where the Skype screen was waiting to connect to his family in Indiana. They knew he'd been seeing someone that he was serious about, but not who.

"Don't worry, they're going to love you." He did, after all.

"I worry that they're just going to see Captain America," Steve said.

"No," Bucky said, "they'll see Steve, the guy who makes me happy."

The Skype notification rang. Bucky started to answer it, then paused. "After we talk to them, you can think about all the filthy sex stuff you want. I'll help."

"Bucky!" Steve laughed and turned bright red, and Bucky reached over him to accept the call.

 

 


	2. Bucky's Fic: No Resistance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An explicit excerpt from the fic Bucky is listening to when Steve catches him at it at the office supply store.

It was going to be a long night at the Resistance safehouse. Steve regretted that he wouldn't be able to catch up with the Commandos until the next day, but he couldn't regret time spent with Luc and Genevieve. The Resistance fighters had long since earned his respect and admiration--and it wasn't the first time he'd whiled away the hours with the couple.

He caught Luc watching him in the candlelight, the speculative gleam of Genevieve's eyes

"Whatever shall we do to pass the time," she purred, and that was all it took to have the three of them peeling each other out of their clothes.

The two of them got Steve naked first, and that was all it took to have him hard. Luc gotten as far as getting his shirt off, and he hooked his fingers through Steve's dog tags and pulled him closer, grinning wickedly. The Frenchman was shorter and more compact than Steve, wiry with muscle.

Steve ran his hands along Luc's sides, down his belly, palming over the bulge in his trousers. As Luc groaned, Genevieve grabbed Steve's hips, her soft breasts pressing against the planes of his back. Steve tried to focus on the buttons of Luc's fly as her hands crept to his front and wrapped around his cock.

He and Luc moaned in tandem as Steve got Luc's cock free, and Steve wanted nothing more in that moment than his mouth on the other man. He pulled Genevieve around to his front with one hand, kissing her as he jacked Luc's cock with the other.

"I want to suck him off," he told Genevieve. "Do you want to watch?"

"Oh, I think I can be a little more involved than that," she said, and gave his cock a friendly caress. "Go ahead and get started, and if you can get him off without getting distracted, we'll think of a good reward for you."

Steve smiled and kissed her again, then dragged Luc's trousers down as she kissed her husband.

Steve tasted salt and the faint tang of precome as he swallowed Luc's cock. The other man moaned, and Steve heard Genevieve moving, and then felt her hand squeeze the muscle of his ass. He leaned back into the touch, moaning around Luc's dick, then jumped as he felt the swipe of her tongue over his asshole.

She licked into him as Luc clutched his shoulders and fought not to thrust into his face. Steve tried to maintain a steady rhythm, but Genevieve had worked a finger into him as her tongue flicked over his rim, and it was hard when he wanted to press back, when he wanted more. If this was the distraction, he couldn't imagine what she had in mind for the reward.

Either way, he didn't want to resist.


	3. Bucky's Fic: Sweeter than Frosting (Is What You Are)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An excerpt from Bucky's first explicit fic, which Steve is recording.

"What are we going to do?" he asked.

Gabe stared at him, then at the one bed in their hotel room. "Cupcake Contest films tomorrow, Steve. We're going to lie down and go to sleep, and act like rational adults."

"All right," Steve said dubiously.

An hour later, he rolled over, staring at the ceiling, wishing he could pretend he was asleep. But he could tell from Gabe's breathing that he was awake too. Gabe sighed next to him.

"This isn't working, is it," Gabe said. "I'm sorry I'm keeping you awake. I'll take the couch."

Before he even thought about it, Steve was reaching out, reaching for Gabe. "No," he said, "don't do that. I want you here. It's just--" Steve rolled over on his side so he could look at Gabe. How was it that he could go on the Cupcake Contest TV show in front of a nationally-broadcast audience, but when it came to telling Gabe his feelings, he was so uncertain. "Look Gabe," Steve said. "I like you a lot."

"You're my friend too," Gabe said, and maybe Steve was just imagining the slight stiffness in his voice, like he was suppressing some emotion. 

"Gabe," Steve whispered, his heart pounding, and reached out to touch Gabe's shoulder. "As more than a friend." 

Gabe's eyes were wide in the darkness. "Steve-- I hoped--" Then Gabe seemed to say  _ fuck it _ , because he cupped his hands around Steve's face and pulled him in for a kiss. 

It was everything Steve had hoped it would be and more, sweet and tender and tentative, and then Steve swiped his tongue across Gabe's bottom lip and Gabe moaned into his mouth. Steve's hand clutched against Gabe's shoulder and against his will, his hips rocked forward. Steve froze as his hard cock bumped into his hip, but Gabe just pulled him closer until Steve could feel the hot line of the other man's erection through his pajamas. 

"Steve," he whispered, "I like you too."  

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just some bonus drabbles from the fics that Bucky's written in this AU. :D

**Author's Note:**

> This is a very deeply self-indulgent fic. Thank you to everyone on twitter who enabled me while writing it. <3 <3 <3


End file.
